Memo: The Billionaire's Proposal. Melissa McClone

asked from behind her.

      The Welsh accent reminded her of Drake Llewelyn, but Gemma had said another billionaire would probably host this episode because he had a previous engagement. Chaney had been relieved to know she wouldn’t have to see him again.

      “Thank you.” She rested the container against her bended knee. “I should have borrowed a baggage cart or dolly.”

      “Allow me.”

      She glanced back at her rescuer. A man wearing chain mail, black leather and armor plates on his shoulders, chest and legs approached. And not just any man…

      Drake Llewelyn.

      Her breath caught in her throat. He looked like a knight from King Arthur’s Round Table, not a billionaire businessman whose latest pet project had him hosting a travel show for his cable channel.

      She had to admit the look suited him. Awareness fluttered through her.

      Too bad Drake Llewelyn wasn’t a noble knight. He didn’t follow any code of chivalry. His armor should be tarnished, not polished. She really shouldn’t care what he looked like.

      He walked toward her with the grace and agility of an athlete. The armor didn’t slow him down one bit.

      Uh-oh. She stiffened with apprehension. The costume must mean he was hosting this episode after all. That meant she would be working with him for the next three days.

      “Hello, Chaney.”

      The warm sound of his voice seeped through her. He took the box out of her arms as if it weighed no more than a container of laundry detergent.

      She pushed her glasses back into the place. Her tired and dry eyes had made her take out her contact lenses three hours ago. “Thanks.”

      “Thank you for coming at such short notice and filling in for Gem,” he said. “Are you up to speed on the show and this episode?”

      Her heart thudded. “Yes.”

      Though the show was the last thing on her mind at the moment.

      Two familiar brown eyes, with gold flecks flickering like flames, stared into hers and sent Chaney’s temperature soaring. His mussed hair made him look as if he’d just returned to the castle after a crusade and was ready to bed the first female who caught his eye. And his beard…

      She did a double take. He’d always been clean shaven before. “You grew a beard.”

      “For the taping.” Drake ran his fingers over the hair on his chin. “Not as full as I’d hoped, but I thought a beard would look more knightly.”

      “It does.” She normally didn’t like men with facial hair, but the mustache and beard, combined with the costume, made Drake look dark, dangerous and sexy. A black knight who, no doubt, had his pick of maidens, courtesans and queens.

      Chaney swallowed around the crown-jewel-size lump in her throat.

      “Where would you like the box?” he asked.

      The deep rumble of his voice coupled with his accent made her stomach cartwheel and do a series of backflips like a gymnast during a floor exercise routine. The unexpected reaction put every one of her nerve endings on alert.

      “By the lights.” Her voice sounded low, almost husky and totally unnatural. The same odd way it felt to be giving Drake Llewelyn orders or feeling the bolt of unwelcome attraction. She cleared her dry throat. “Please place the box next to the lights.”

      As he carefully set the box where one of tonight’s scenes would be taped, chain mail clinked. The sound echoed through the cavernous hall until swallowed up by the tapestry-covered walls.

      Drake stood, looking taller than she remembered. She hadn’t remembered his eyelashes being so thick and long, either. He seemed more handsome, if that were possible.

      Maybe she was more tired than she realized. Exhaustion could easily explain her reaction to him.

      His gaze raked over Chaney.

      She crossed her arms over her chest. “If I’d known we were supposed to dress up, I would have brought my beer wench costume.”

      Drake laughed. “It’s been too long, Chaney.”

      Five years, one month and, she did a quick calculation, about five days. Not long enough in her opinion. “I’m only here as a favor for Gemma.”

      “It’s still good to see you again.”

      No way would she allow herself to be charmed by him. Being enticed by his knight get-up was bad enough. She straightened. “I doubt you missed me.”

      “But I have.”

      “Not according to the tabloids.”

      He adjusted one of the chain mail sleeves, as if the leather pants, tunic and armor were his daily attire not a designer suit from Brioni. “You’ve been following me in the tabloids?”

      “Not really. Just…when I’m in line at the grocery store.” And drawn to the stories of Drake dating women as if they were library books to be checked out and returned before their due date. A leopard didn’t change its spots, and so it seemed, neither did a dragon.

      “Grocery shopping. For your family?”

      Her chest tightened. “Myself.”

      “Gemma told me you were engaged.” He glanced at her left hand, at her bare ring finger to be exact. “I thought you’d be married by now.”

      Her, too. “Nope.”

      “Let me guess, you found the long-term investment strategy lacking.”

      Her cheeks burned when she remembered what she’d said to him five years ago. If she’d known then…Who was she kidding? She probably wouldn’t have done anything differently.

      “No,” Chaney admitted. “He did.”

      Drake reached his hand toward her, but she stepped away from him. “Chaney—”

      “I’m not looking for sympathy,” she interrupted. “I got enough of that when Tyler, my fiancé, broke up with me.”

      “I wasn’t going to say I’m sorry, because I’m not. The man is obviously an idiot.”

      She bit back a smile. She’d forgotten how Drake could put things into perspective with only a few words. “He married my sister.”

      “Then your brother-in-law is an idiot,” Drake said.

      Chaney laughed. “You’re right about that.”

      “You’re too young to settle down.”

      “Well, I don’t plan on settling down anytime soon.”

      “We have something in common.”

      “That makes two things,” she said.

      Drake gave her a puzzled look.

      “Gemma.” Chaney picked up her clipboard from the top of the box. “We have her in common.”

      His eyes darkened. “Yes, we do.”

      “I don’t see her much, but thank goodness for the Internet. I don’t know what I would do without her.”

      “Me, neither.”

      The emotion in the two words, as well as the concern in his eyes, caught her off guard. “You know, Gemma’s going to be fine. Her baby, too. I spoke with her this morning after I arrived. She is sure the bed rest is temporary, and with the way Oliver is spoiling her, she’ll be good to go for the rest of this season’s tapings.”

      “Let’s hope so, but until then…” A smile touched Drake’s lips. “I have you.”

      The approval in his eyes let Chaney know he liked what he saw. She wouldn’t let herself care.